Secrets in a Broom Closet
by toLoveaMalfoy
Summary: I, Hermione Granger, am stuck in a broom closet with Draco Malfoy. How did I get here? Not exactly sure. Actually no, that’s not true. I know exactly how I got here. rated T just in case ONE-SHOT


I, Hermione Granger, am stuck in a broom closet with Draco Malfoy. How did I get here? Not exactly sure. Actually no, that's not true. I know exactly how I got here.

FLASHBACK - 1 HOUR AGO

I was lost in reading my newest book that mum gave me, The Catcher in the Rye, when Draco Malfoy suddenly barged into my room - the Head Girl's room, mind you - completely disturbing my peace.

"C'mon Granger, get your nose out of the book. It's time to fulfill some Head duties and go patrol." Draco said, rather annoyingly too. He always was an annoying prat. Sometimes I just wish someone would sew his mouth together.

"Granger, come on! We don't have time for you to sit and day dream!" Draco whined, knocking me to my senses.

"Well, I'm sorry Malfoy if I am trying to improve my knowledge by reading, instead of lying around doing nothing." About a month after we both became head boy and girl, Draco had been nicer to me. Of course, not in public. But he had stopped calling me a mudblood. That was a nice change. It didn't mean that we stopped insulting each other, though.

"You need to work on your insults, Granger." Draco said, as he rolled his eyes and walked out the door. I sighed, and followed him out.

Anyway, back to patrolling. It was started off a typical night. Caught some fourth years wandering around, helped a lost first year Hufflepuff back to her common room.

"What was she doing lost after curfew?" Draco wondered after we brought her back.

"I don't know. Maybe she was sleepwalking, was wondering around, then woke up and didn't know where she was?" I replied, wondering the same thing.

"Hmm." I guess he was satisfied with my answer. He tends to do that whenever I correctly - according to him - answer a question.

So, we were walking around for about a half an hour, doing nothing, until we heard two people arguing.

"He can't hold back much longer. He's going to attack, and it's going to be soon. As Headmistress, you should warn the students." a male voice said.

"And what am I supposed to tell them, Severus?" an older, female voice replied.

I looked at Draco. "Is that-"

"Shh!" Draco glared and covered my mouth. Then he went to the nearest broom closet and opened the door. "Well, do you want to be caught, or not?"

I looked at the door, then back at Draco, his cold grey eyes seeming to be burning in fury. I walked in. I definitely did not want to be on his bad side at the moment. He followed behind me, and closed the door so that only a sliver was open. He started pacing back and forth, well, as much pacing as you can do in a broom closet.

"Malfoy." I whispered. No answer, more pacing. I tried again. "Malfoy." I whispered a little louder. Still no answer. He had stopped pacing though. Now he was just tapping his foot. It was getting quite annoying, so I decided to try another tactic, "Malfoy, your hair is on fire." It was completely out of the blue, but it seemed to work. Panic stricken, he got a broom, and violently started smashing the top of the broom on his head. It was definitely a funny sight. I started giggling. Then he stopped, and looked at me.

"Granger." He said, in a deep voice, his eyes burning even more. I was kind of frightened.

"Malfoy?" I asked in a timid, tiny voice.

"There was no fire on my head, was there?" His voice starting to shake with anger.

"Erm." I looked down at my shoes. "Not really. It's just that you were pacing and I couldn't get your attention and then you started tapping your foot and that got annoying so I really couldn't think of anything else and I know how much you like your hair and -" I stopped talking. He looked at me quizzically, as if expecting me to continue. Later, I learned that I had a shocked look on my face.

"What? What's going on? Why does your face look like that?" he asked.

"Um. Malfoy? Erm. I think you should turn around, and look at the door." I said. Confused, he turned around and did what I said. The door was closed. Draco tried opening it. It wouldn't open.

"It won't open!" he looked at me, as if expecting me to do something.

"Oh, I have to fix everything now? And they made you Head Boy." I went up to the door knob, took out my wand, and said "Alohamora." The spell didn't work. Uh-oh.

"Malfoy." I turned around, and looked him in the eyes.

"Yeah?"

"We are officially stuck." I said, and slumped down on the floor.

"This is your fault you know." he sneered at me.

"What? How is this my fault?" I answered, or rather yelled in reply.

"You're the one that told me my hair was on fire!"

I scoffed. "I didn't expect you to believe it. How would your hair catch on fire randomly in a broom closet? Seriously Malfoy, that is just ridiculous." He didn't say anything in reply, he just sat down across from me. I smiled, I knew I had won this battle.

We were sitting there for about five minutes, lost in our thoughts. I was thinking about what Snape and McGonagall were talking about. Were they talking about You - Voldemort? And if they were, which is the most likely explanation, is he really going to attack soon? I had a lot of questions.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Draco was fiddling with his left arm. Isn't that the arm where the Dark Mark is? I wonder....no, I shouldn't ask him. That would be rude. And it's not like we're friends.

I guess he noticed me staring because he looked up and gave me a cold glare. "What are you looking at, Granger?"

"N-nothing." I replied. He continued to stare at me.

"You want to know if I'm a Death Eater, huh?" He was starting to get angry. I decided it was best for me not to reply. Keep your mouth shut, Hermione.

"Look at me!" Draco yelled. I slowly turned my head. "Answer my question. Do you want to know if I'm a Death eater?" he said slowly, as if I had trouble understanding him.

"Well..." I started. I really didn't know what to say.

"Yes." he suddenly said.

"Yes? Your a D-Death Eater?" I asked, tentatively.

Draco shook his head in response.

"W-Why are you telling me this? Out of all people, why me? According to you, I'm just a lowly muggle born, who as soon as we get out could possibly tell this information to Harry Potter." I asked. I really was curious as of why he was telling me.

He shrugged, his eyes averting to the floor. "I had to tell someone. No one knows. And you won't go tell Potter if you know what's good for you."

Something was wrong. I could tell, the way he wouldn't look me in his eyes. And his threat didn't even have any power to it. Then I realized something.

"You didn't want to become a Death Eater, did you?" Oh dear. Did I just say that out loud?

But instead of yelling and throwing hexes everywhere, blasting about how he loves the Dark Lord, he was silent. I had my answer.

"Hmm." That was all I said. Then he did something completely unexpected, and completely un-Malfoyish. When he looked up, his eyes were full of sadness. I was shocked. Draco never let down his guard. Ever. And then he started to speak.

"Ever since I was a kid, my dad would make sure I knew that Voldemort was 'The Man'. I never was supposed to disrespect him. If I ever said anything against Him, I would be severely punished. My mother tried to keep me away from all of that. She would argue with my dad many nights about how I was too young for this, how I needed to grow up a bit more until he told me all of it. But my father wouldn't listen. When we would go into town, I would see kids laughing, playing, and overall having fun. But if I was ever to crack a smile around my father....." he stopped, choking up. I didn't say anything, how could I? I was in absolute shock. I just waited for him to continue.

"I was brought up to hate everything that was against the Dark Lord. I was told to put Mud--Muggleborns down, and tell them they were worth nothing. I had to be the best in everything. When my father learned that you were doing better than me in some subjects, he would yell at me to try harder, even though I was doing my best. And then, when I turned 17, my father was the happiest. Of course he would be, I could finally be a Death Eater. He would talk about me turning 17 my whole life." He looked up at me, tears threatening to pour out. "I had no choice. But I don't want to be like them. I don't want to be like my father!" he cried out.

"Draco," he face turned to shock. I had called him Draco. "Draco, you are nothing like your father. And you will never be like your father. This, right here, proves that you are above him."

He just continued to look at me. "Thank you, Hermione. Thank you for listening. I needed that. And you...I am sorry for anything bad I have ever said to you. I didn't mean it. I--"

"I know." I cut him off. "And I forgive you. I absolutely, full-heartedly forgive you." That confession that Draco had just given me, made me see him in a whole new light. He doesn't want to be who his father wanted him to be. Draco Malfoy just wanted to be...Draco. Without the reputation of his last name involved.

Suddenly, a stream of light came in, and the door opened, with one of the 6th year prefects standing in the doorway. "I found them professor!" he shouted. Then he ran off.

"Apparently, we have been missed." Draco smirked at me. I just gave him a sad smile in return. So now, after all that we were just going to go on as we were; acquaintances.

I guess Draco noticed, because he suddenly closed the door - not all the way - and said, "Wait. I um...never really got to thank you, properly." I stared at him confused, and then suddenly he bent down and kissed me. It was the littlest notion, but I loved it nonetheless. We broke apart, and we smiled at each other. He opened the door, and we walked out, into the Dining Hall. Apparently we were in there all night, because everyone was eating breakfast. We walked our separate ways, I to the Gryffindor table and him to Slytherin.

As I sat down between Harry and Ron, Harry asked, "Where were you this morning? You usually meet us in the common room before breakfast. We guessed you slept in. Had a rough night?"

Ron snorted. "Who wouldn't have a rough night when they are forced to be in the same area as Malfoy?"

I smiled, and turned towards the Slytherin table, and Malfoy and I locked eyes, and we shared a smile.

Yep, it was definitely an interesting night.


End file.
